


that's disco, baby!

by divinerenjun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 2000s, Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Crush, First Meetings, Getting to Know Each Other, Holding Hands, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Lots of blushing, M/M, Rollerblades & Rollerskates, jisung is a skating virgin and chenle thinks hes cute, roller skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26197162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divinerenjun/pseuds/divinerenjun
Summary: “What are you doing?” Chenle asks, looking legitimately confused as to why Jisung is still not in the rink.“Standing. Watching. Learning.” Jisung shrugs. He is absolutely not going to admit to this cute boy that he’s scared. One, because he’snot.Two, because, as previously mentioned, the boy iscute.Uh oh.
Relationships: Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 33
Kudos: 223





	that's disco, baby!

**Author's Note:**

> chenle's roller skates have those light up rainbow wheels it's very important that you know that

Jisung has no idea how he let Jaemin talk him into this. It’s Friday night. All he wants to be doing right now is breaking in the new bedazzler he got at the mall the other day.

Instead, Jaemin’s shoving a cherry Icee that’s taller than his forearm is long into Jisung’s hand: “Ji! Hold this for me a sec!” And then he’s gone, effectively abandoning his best friend in favor of—

“Thriller? Really? Hasn’t that been played out by now?” Jisung grumbles, setting the Icee down and continuing to lace up his rental skates. They’re an ugly off-white, big and clunky with orange wheels and a matching toe stop. 

Jisung hates them. 

“You’re kidding, right?” The voice is incredulous. Jisung looks up, not even sure whoever’s speaking is talking to him, and he’s met with a boy about his age, staring at him with a shocked expression on his face. The boy’s hair is a vibrant purple, dark roots creeping in and seeming that much darker in the poor light of the rink. He’s sporting a matching purple velour tracksuit. Jisung think’s it’s the ugliest thing he’s ever seen, but somehow the kid pulls it off.

Jisung points a finger right in the middle of his own chest, raising his eyebrows and looking to either side of himself to ask ‘who? Me?’ 

The boy nods. “Yeah, you. Thriller is a classic. You can’t come to a skating rink andexpect them to _not_ play this song.” The disco ball hanging over the rink is refracting neon light across the whole building; bright pink and orange and green play across this stranger’s cheekbones.

Jisung shrugs and gives his laces one final tug. “I always thought that was just a joke. I’ve never actually been here before.”

The boy grins. “Well, allow me to be your guide. I’m Chenle.” He offers his hand to help Jisung up off the tacky carpeted floor.

“Jisung.” Jisung takes his hand, pulling himself up and feeling instantly grateful for Chenle’s steadying grip as the wheels on his skates roll forward with his momentum. “Oh—.” He feels heat rise to his cheeks at his fumbling.

Chenle laughs and doesn’t let go. “You’ve seriously never skated before? How old are you?”

“Fifteen.” Jisung feels his blush deepen.

“Not even when you were a little kid?” This close, Jisung can see that Chenle has one of those fake rhinestones stuck on the corner of his eye. It’s sparkly, shiny. If Jisung leaned in really close, he thinks he would be able to see his own reflection.

“No," he mumbles. His hand is getting sweaty, but for some reason he doesn’t want to pull away. His cheeks must be firetruck red at this point.

“Well,” Chenle starts. Jisung has never heard someone speak with such an emotive voice. Every single word that falls from this boy’s lips makes Jisung _feel._ “We should change that.”

Jisung nods, “That’s why I’m here,” and attempts to take a step forward. 

He promptly stumbles, arms flailing, and this time Chenle doesn’t catch him. He actually _lets go_ of Jisung’s hand to laugh at his struggles, and all the warmth Jisung felt blossoming between them spikes to even greater temperatures at the sound. It’s crisp and clear, like popping the tab off a can of 7up, and Jisung kind of wants to keep making a fool of himself as long as it meant he could hear that sound forever. 

Instead of saying any of this, he makes the reasonable decision to tell Chenle to “Shut up!” and grabs onto the counter where people trade arcade tickets for prizes. Chenle just keeps giggling. Jisung sighs. 

“Make yourself useful and grab that Icee, will you?” He points, and Chenle obeys, grabbing Jaemin’s slushie and taking a slurp without hesitation. Jisung scrunches his nose up, but chooses not to comment. “Let’s go.” 

“It’s easy,” Chenle encourages when Jisung hesitates to strike out from the prize counter. “It’s just like walking, except not!” 

“Gee, that’s helpful,” Jisung rolls his eyes.

Chenle smiles. “Watch.” He glides away, legs powerful in the purple sweatpants. Jisung gulps, and tries to pay attention to Chenle’s feet.

By the time Chenle’s back to stand in front of him, he’s feeling a bit more confident. He takes an uneasy few steps—shuffles, really—and tries to adjust to the feeling of walking on air. The skates are heavy, weighing him down like cinder blocks tied to his feet.

“You’re here with Jaemin, right?”

Jisung is surprised, both at the question’s out-of-the-blue nature and by Chenle’s knowledge. “Yeah, how did you—”

“I saw you guys come in, dummy. He’s friends with my brother, Jeno.” Chenle gives a short laugh, and sets the Icee down on a table. Jisung vaguely recognizes the kid sitting there typing out a message on his Razr. Jisung’s surprised his fingers haven’t caught on fire with how fast they’re flitting across the keyboard. _Renjun,_ Jisung recalls. “They’re probably begging the DJ to do a couples skate soon. They love doing that shit. ‘Just as a joke’ my ass.”

Jisung grins. “I didn’t realize Jeno had a brother. Jaemin’s usually too busy talking about his smile to mention any of the actually important details.”

Chenle snorts. “They’re sickening, aren’t they?” 

Jisung nods, laughing. They’ve made it to the edge of the rink. It’s sunk a foot or so below the main floor of the arcade. Chenle steps down onto the slick wooden floor and pushes off, gliding easily into the throng of teens circling the track. Jisung stays firmly planted on the carpet.

After a moment, Chenle realizes Jisung is no longer with him. Jisung watches as he looks about himself, continuing to take steady steps that look _impossibly_ smooth even as he nearly skates directly into the path of a young girl who gives him the stink eye and instantly moves towards her friends to gossip about him. 

_It’s rude to point,_ Jisung thinks, then smacks his hand to his forehead in exasperation as Chenle picks him out across the crowd and points a finger right at him, giving a shout that’s indecipherable over the din of Britney Spears. _Toxic,_ she sings. _I’m slipping under._

Chenle skates all the way back around to him, skidding to a suave stop. Donghyuck, another one of Jaemin’s friends, nearly runs into him at the abrupt halt. Chenle just waves when the orange-haired kid gives him a middle finger.

“What are you doing?” Chenle asks, looking legitimately confused as to why Jisung is still not in the rink. 

“Standing. Watching. Learning.” Jisung shrugs. He is absolutely not going to admit to this cute boy that he’s scared. One, because he’s _not._ Two, because, as previously mentioned, the boy is _cute._

Uh oh. 

He feels himself start to blush again, then flails his arms and lets out a “Hey!” as Chenle grabs his shoulders and starts pulling him in. 

Jisung bends in half, grabbing Chenle’s waist to try and keep his balance and not collapse into the rink. Chenle laughs at his misfortune. 

“I’ll be right there with you! It’s so much fun, dude. You have to go around the circle at least once. Just try.”

Jisung gives him a glare. It’s absolutely ineffective, he knows, because Chenle’s smile only grows wider.

Jisung sighs, adjusts so his hands are gripping Chenle’s velour-clad biceps and not his waist—Jisung blushes again—and steps down. 

The wheels of his skates instantly start rolling, very slowly, but noticeable enough. He gives Chenle a wide-eyed, nervous look, and Chenle responds with an encouraging nod.

“Remember what it felt like on the carpet? Just do that same thing. It’s basically walking.”

“Except not,” Jisung mutters.

“Except not! Exactly! See, you’re getting the hang of it!” Chenle beams, and Jisung cannot fathom that there might ever be a single soul in the universe that had a grievance with this boy. 

Chenle lets go of Jisung’s shoulders in favor of holding out an open hand. Jisung takes it eagerly, gripping tight even though he knows his hands are probably sticky and wet and disgusting from how much he’s sweating.

He takes a few slow steps, awkward as a newborn fawn. The ground seems like it’s rising up to meet his feet and not the other way around. He mentions this to Chenle, and Chenle laughs.

“Yeah, that’ll go away eventually. At least, I don’t feel like that. I don’t remember my first time skating but I’m sure you’ll feel confident in just a few minutes. I’m gonna let go now.”

Jisung panics at the abrupt statement, and splutters as the warmth of Chenle’s fingers disappears. “Dude! I’ll fall!”

“Yeah,” Chenle giggles. “You will. And then you’ll get back up and be fine. After you do that a few hundred times, you’ll be a pro.”

“So philosophical. When I bust my ass, I’m blaming you.” Jisung scrunches up his nose in faux anger, then continues pseudo-walking, struggling to keep his legs underneath him and not let them force him into a poor imitation of the splits as he feels they want to do. He doesn’t think his cutoffs could take that kind of stretch.

He forces himself onward, turning around the first corner in what feels like slow motion.

Chenle skates circles around him.

Literally.

One second he’s in front of Jisung, the next his raucous laughter is cackling from behind. Each time, Jisung wants to turn around and watch the neon lights dance across Chenle’s skin, but he’s terrified that if he takes his eyes off the ground in front of him he’ll instantly crash.

After a minute or so, he starts to feel more confident, and picks up speed.

“This is fun!” He exclaims, only to look up and realize that Chenle is no longer with him. He glances around, trying to pick out his new friend, and in his distraction doesn’t notice the brick wall looming in front of him until he’s about a foot away. 

He crashes spectacularly, just managing to get his hands up in time to protect his face. “Shit—.” As he lands hard on his ass, he’s grateful that he wasn’t going too fast. _No more confidence,_ Jisung thinks. _Not allowed. And_ definitely _no more looking around for cute boys. I mean_ a _cute boy. I mean—._

“You okay?” Chenle ( _cute boy…_ Jisung’s brain helpfully supplies—he must be addled from his fall.) materializes beside him like magic, like a trick of the disco lights in all his purple glory. 

Jisung gives his scraped palms a once-over, shifting on his butt to assess the damage. “No blood. Just gonna have some wicked bruises tomorrow.”

“Join the club.” Chenle grins and helps Jisung up. 

When Jisung finally psyches himself up to keep skating, Chenle ditches him instantly—Jisung harbors no bad feelings. Chenle is _fast_ and Jisung is very much not, and all the flashing neon lights are kind of giving him vertigo as he circles around and around. It doesn’t help when the entire building goes dark, lights dimming until the only illumination is from gentle white bulbs shining directly onto the disco ball, bouncing around the room in time with the ball’s slow spinning. 

_“This one’s for all you lovers out there tonight. Let’s slow it down…”_ The DJ’s voice is sultry through the speakers, deep and inviting. The first funky notes of Marvin Gaye’s _Sexual Healing_ spike literal fear into Jisung’s heart, and he skids to a stop by a low wall wrapping around one end of the rink (he runs into it. The toe breaks are not yet his friend.) and starts looking around for Chenle.

He spies him across the circle, and watches with a grin as he does a turn in time with the music before coming to a stop right next to Jisung. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Jisung smiles. “I guess Jaemin and Jeno got their request through.”

As if on cue, the two skate by hand in hand, singing along at the top of their lungs. Another _actual_ couple side-eyes them as Jaemin takes Jeno’s arms and begins spinning them in slow circles. Chenle and Jisung burst into laughter at their antics and Chenle nudges Jisung in the direction of the sitting area.

They make it to the same table as before. Renjun is gone but the Icee remains—significantly less full than it was when they’d left it there—so they collapse into the vacant seats, panting on opposite sides of the table.

“This skating business is hard work,” Jisung says, halfway joking and halfway knowing that his muscles will be aching the next day.

“Don’t you get… hot? In all that?” Jisung gestures vaguely to the tracksuit. It’s grown on him. He usually hates the tracksuit trend, but Chenle’s been making him reconsider a lot of his personal beliefs and values. 

“What, this?” Chenle fiddles with the zipper on the top, grinning. “Nah. Beauty is pain, after all. Don’t _you_ get hot in all that?” He points to the denim jacket.

“Beauty is pain,” Jisung parrots back, then rolls his eyes and shrugs the jacket off, laying it on the table between them. He’s got a plain white tank top underneath, and he doesn’t think he imagines Chenle’s eyes tracing a greedy path across his bare shoulders. “I am hot though, yeah.”

Chenle has the audacity to wink, taking a sip from the slushie. He passes the drink to Jisung along with what Jisung _thinks_ is an open flirtation. “Yeah you are.”

Jisung blushes and scratches awkwardly at his temple. The Icee has melted completely in the humid atmosphere of the arcade, and Jisung slurps up the liquid red, like blood on his tongue, like his heart in his throat, and looks anywhere but Chenle’s deep, pretty eyes as he drinks.

“Hey,” Chenle says, voice soft. 

One simple word and his gravity is pulling Jisung back in, forcing him to make eye contact.

“I like your jacket.” Chenle smiles.

Jisung blushes deeper. Rosy-cheeked: that seems to be his constant mode of being tonight. “Thanks.”

Chenle runs his fingers across the fake jewels, pink and blue and silver sparkling against the denim fabric, then leans forward to rest his elbows on the table, chin in palm. Jisung mirrors him. This close, Jisung can’t help his eyes darting down to Chenle’s lips. _Shiny,_ he thinks, recognizing the warm sheen of cherry lip gloss. How he hadn’t noticed that before, he has no idea. 

“What were you doing as a child, if not skating?” Chenle asks, and Jisung has to force his mind to climb out of the sticky pink pool it’s started swimming in and think of an eloquent response.

“Suffering through Jaemin _talking_ about skating, dancing, suffering through Jaemin talking about _boys_ —”

Chenle interrupts him, laughing. “Hang on, dancing?”

Jisung smiles, explains about his dance troupe, and hopes that the couple’s skate lighting is low enough to conceal the way his eyes are surveying every single centimeter of Chenle’s face, taking in every quirk and blemish he can make out and liking all that he sees.

They talk about everything under the sun. Jisung learns that Chenle plays piano and hates science and eats _way_ more eggs every day than is healthy and that he’s scared of spiders and that he listens to the Black Eyed Peas and that he’s _definitely_ the coolest person Jisung's ever met. He hopes that whatever he tells Chenle in return comes across even half as interesting, but his brain is caught up in neon lights and Gwen Stefani chanting that she’s not a ‘hollaback girl.’ _That’s right, I’m the last one standing, another one bites the dust._

They’re interrupted by four disheveled boys moments after the DJ announces that they’re nearing the end of the night. _“It’s been an honor to guide your rhythm tonight. Keep loving, keep rolling. DJ Johnny out.”_

“Hey,” Jeno says, eye smile and arm slung around Renjun’s shoulder making him the epitome of boyfriend material. Jisung won’t deny that he’s always had a bit of a crush on Jaemin’s friends. _Not_ that he would ever admit it to anyone.

Well, maybe Chenle would understand.

“We wanna go to Sonic,” Renjun interrupts that line of thought. “And since _we_ are you little fuckers’ rides home, you have to come with us.”

Chenle laughs. “No fair! I don’t want to sit through more hours of you guys flirting than I already have tonight.”

“So get a separate table,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

Jaemin gives Jisung a not-so-subtle elbow to the ribs. “Besides, I don’t think we’re the only guilty parties here.”

Jisung flushes from his neck to his hairline. He can _feel_ the warmth radiating off his skin, and hopes Chenle doesn’t notice.

He does, of course, but Jisung looks up to see that he’s a similar shade, and decides that his own predicament is manageable. He looks until Chenle meets his gaze, then rolls his eyes and presses his lips into a thin line, hopefully conveying his annoyance at older friends and brothers meddling in business that _clearly has nothing to do with them._

Chenle giggles, then turns to punch Donghyuck in the shoulder. “What are we still standing here for? I want ice cream.”

Donghyuck rubs his shoulder, giving Chenle an affronted look, then digs in his pocket for his keys. 

Somehow, Chenle and Jisung end up sitting together in the backseat of Jaemin’s Jeep, top down, cool summer breeze tossing their hair into tangled nests. They talk the whole way to the restaurant, shouting above the wind and laughing when Renjun turns around to tell them to shut up.

‘Dinner’ passes in a blur, all six of them talking and joking and eating around one table, Chenle and Jisung crammed onto the same bench.

Well, crammed isn’t really an accurate description. There’s plenty of room on either side of them. Jisung’s just pressing as close to Chenle as he can because he’s cold.

Yeah, cold. That’s it.

His jacket lies untouched on his lap the whole time.

When everyone’s shakes have been sucked down to the very last drop, crumbs all that remain of their mozzarella sticks and onion rings, Donghyuck claps his hands together and announces he needs to go home now that it’s nearly—he checks his watch—midnight.

“Oh shit, I told Mom we’d be home an hour ago.” Jeno scrambles to his feet, fumbling for his phone and shooting a quick text to his and Chenle’s mother. Chenle just rolls his eyes.

Few goodbyes are exchanged, considering the whole group only brought two cars and Donghyuck and Jaemin still have to drive their respective groups home. Jisung waves an awkward goodbye to Jeno, Renjun, and Donghyuck, then turns to Chenle. 

The older boys conveniently remember they have something to look at in Donghyuck’s car, moving out of earshot.

Jisung’s blushing. Again. He shoves his hands in his pockets, and stares at the ground, shuffling his feet against the dirty concrete paving the Sonic seating area. 

“I had a lot of fun meeting you," he finally chokes out. Chenle giggles, and Jisung watches his chunky Pumas step closer, until their toes are nearly touching and he can feel Chenle’s hot breath tickling his hair. 

Jisung looks up slowly. Renjun’s laughter echoes out across the empty parking lot. His chest feels warm. Chenle’s eyes are wide and happy.

“I had fun meeting you too!” He says, and Jisung feels like melting into the gritty pavement, becoming one with the conglomerate residues of spilled soft drinks and sticky desserts. Instead, he stands stock-still, eyes widening as Chenle leans in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

A peck, really. Short and sweet.

 _Just like Chenle,_ Jisung thinks with the small part of his brain that’s working.

“I’ll see you around, Jisung!” And then he’s off, bouncing away to wrap his arms around Renjun and fit easily into the older group’s dynamic. 

Jisung remains right where he is, mouth open in shock, and lifts a hand to press against the spot Chenle’s lips brushed. 

“Hey kiddo,” Jaemin joins him.

Jisung gets it now, his obsession with the roller rink. 

“Jaemin,” he somehow remembers how to speak, “can we do that, like, every night?”

Jaemin just laughs. “Open skate is every day from 6 to 10. I’ll talk to Jeno about what days they’re going and we can work something out.”

“Thanks.” It’s just a whisper. Jisung pulls his hand away from his face.

His fingers are sticky and pink, covered in cherry lip gloss. 

**Author's Note:**

> they go back at least twice a week for the rest of the summer. chenle wins jisung one of those giant stuffed bears from the arcade basketball game. jisung learns how to do a jump while hes skating. their first proper kiss happens under flashing neon lights with fergie playing in the background. 
> 
> mwah <3
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/divinerenjun) | [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/divinerenjun)


End file.
